


Welcome To The End Of The World

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Welcome To The End Of The World [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: The reader wakes up one day after an accident and finds out the world’s changed quite a bit in the meantime…





	1. Chapter 1

“Keep it together, Y/N,” you told yourself, nearly tripping down your front porch steps as you went backwards. You stumbled from the shake in your body, absolutely positive you were stuck in some hellish nightmare. 

Some really vivid, lifelike, you couldn’t wake yourself up nightmare.

“Calm down, just calm down,” you said to yourself, making it onto firm ground and just sitting down on the last step before you fell on your own two feet. “There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

You had weird dreams all the time right? This…this was just one of them. Then why the fuck hadn’t you woken up screaming in your bed yet? Why hadn’t your dog given you the stink eye for disturbing his sleep? Why hadn’t one of your parents cracked open your door to see your still living at home after college ass to check that you were okay?

Why did the inside of your house look like a horror movie that made you throw up in the kitchen sink? Why were you wearing some sort of medical gown? Why was there a nasty looking scar and stitches on your arm? Why did you feel like a scared little kid waiting for something bad to happen?

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, ready to wake up now. You’d never cried in a dream before which made that pit in you grow. Maybe…maybe this was somehow real?

You stood up and walked down the short little path to the sidewalk, looking up and down your street before over at the corner stop sign. You could read it and the street name, clear as day. The For Sale sign was still in the Jones’ yard after they decided to downsize. But you couldn’t read in dreams, you just couldn’t.

“Fuck,” you said, dropping your head down low, fighting back all the tears that wanted to run free. Apparently the world had ended while you were in that hospital. And you were alone in it.

You didn’t have time to comprehend that in the slightest before you heard a quick movement of air behind you and your head felt like it was going to explode as you hit the ground.

Oh yeah, the car accident. You’d smacked your head before. You quickly felt yourself lose the battle with consciousness, even with closed eyes. The air shifted around you and made you wonder if whatever had hit you was coming back for seconds. Maybe it’d put you out of your misery. But you were out before you ever got the chance to think about if you’d wake up again.

 

Your head was killing you when you eventually did. You were in a small dark bedroom, lit by only a few candles that had boarded up windows. You struggled to sit up but managed. There was a pitcher of water on a table against the opposite wall by a door and you realized just how thirsty you were. You crawled down the end of the bed and swung one leg over, taking a step as you dragged the other one off.

Only it didn’t come off as you hit the ground hard. Fuck, someone had tied your ankle to the end of the bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, your following groan loud as the water was still out of reach and now your knees were throbbing. You were about to try and push yourself up when you saw the bottom of the door swing open and a pair of boots step into view.

“Good, you’re awake,” said a deep voice, your eyes traveling upwards to see a too handsome face staring back. His hands were on you, lifting you up and tossing you back on the bed before you knew what hit you. “Stay.”

You whined, your head accidentally connecting with the headboard and your hands shooting up to protect it from any further harm. Those strong hands were on you again, pulling your arms away like you were nothing. You shut your eyes and waited for him to do whatever it was he had planned.

“You need stitches,” he said, running his thumb near a spot on your forehead that throbbed. He left the room and was back twenty seconds later. He didn’t talk as he cleaned it, running a needle and thread through like it was second nature to him before eventually sticking a bandaid over it.

You stared up blankly at him when he pulled away and saw a hard smirk. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, dragging a chair from the side of the room and spinning it around before taking a seat. You’d never seen green eyes like his before. They were bright and subtle all at once and he growled when you didn’t respond. “We can do this the hard way if you like.”

“Y-Y/N,” you said. He smiled to himself.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he said. You opened your mouth when he pointed at the bracelet from the hospital you’d yet to remove. “Where’s your group?”

“My what?” you asked. He sighed and you looked over to the water again. “Can I have-”

“When you answer my questions,” he said. You frowned and shook your head.

“I don’t have a group. What is going on?” you asked, licking your chapped and broken lips. He was stoic before suddenly standing and pouring you a glass, handing it over. You drank it down fast and he quickly got you another one, this one going down slower. 

“What day do you think it is?” he asked, tilting his head at you. You glanced around, trying to get your memory to work for you but it hurt and you found yourself getting a headache instead. “Kid, work with me.”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know,” you said, taking a deep breath to calm down. He watched you carefully for a moment, eyes landing on the mass of stitches in your arm. 

“Did one of them bite you?” he asked, pointing at the wound and you shook your head.

“Why would anyone bite me?” you asked. He ran a hand through his hair and undid the cuff on your ankle, your body pulling it in tight. 

“Do you have a group, Y/N?” he asked slowly, a little more gentleness in his words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about so the answer isn’t going to change jackass,” you said, starting to get tired of being treated like a criminal. 

“Are you…fuck…you’re either an incredible actress or the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet,” he said, standing and moving to grab your wrist. 

“Let go,” you said, watching him turn it over and look at the bracelet again.

“This says you were admitted in May,” he said, his voice quiet. 

“I was in a car accident…I think. It just hurt a lot. Today I woke up…” you said, his thumb running small circles into the back of your hand.

“Wait, did…were you in a coma?” he asked, something about the way he viewed you changing in front of your eyes. Not an enemy anymore.

“Maybe. I was in a room by myself. No one came when I pressed that nurse button thing. I got out of bed after a little bit and…no one was in the hall. It was weird,” you said, rubbing your other hand against your head. “Am I insane?”

“No more than I am. Just tell me what happened next kid. Did you see anything?” he asked. His words didn’t exactly ease your nerves but you started to feel less trapped here and more…safe. Safe from what was a whole other question you didn’t want the answer to yet.

“No. There was only a few boarded up rooms and…noises. Bad noises,” you said, those spine chilling growls and grunts and sickly sounds echoing in your brain. “I went down the stairs since it looked like most of the power was out. I started seeing…blood.”

“Then what, Y/N? How’d you end up at that house?” he asked, his gaze looking over your old injury, squinting at it.

“I…I went outside and…there were army trucks and body bags and I told myself I was in a nightmare. I walked home and saw that no one was around, no cars, no barking dogs, nothing. It was all just a really bad dream. This is just a bad dream right?” you asked him, hoping you were just crazy. But he looked too sad, too angry and scared to lie.

“It’s July, Y/N. You slept through the start of the apocalypse,” he said. He was obviously waiting for you to freak out, have a meltdown, cry, to do something. But you’d already gone home and seen what was left of your family. There wasn’t much that was more traumatizing than that.

“Why did you hit me?” you asked. He leaned back, not expecting that. He glanced around, deciding how to phrase this. “Can I at least know your name?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester,” he said, the words flowing easily from his lips, a tiny smile on them. “Fuck, how do I tell you this? It’s…it’s a shit world out there, Y/N.”

“I got that much. Please Dean, I need you to tell me this stuff or I’m…I’m going to end up like the people I saw,” you said. You put a hand on his arm and he jerked back a little before understanding it was okay. Was human contact not a thing anymore?

“Something…no one knows what…but something happened. All of a sudden back in May, probably not long after you were injured, these…things showed up. People. Undead people,” said Dean. You couldn’t help but start laughing at him.

“Oh, I needed that. Thanks Dean. Now seriously, what…” you trailed off, your smile quickly fading as you read his face. “No, y-you’re joking. You’re playing a mean joke.”

“You saw your family? In your house?” asked Dean. You started shaking. “I was scavenging in the neighborhood and saw them. You explain to me what could have done that to them.”

“Zombies? You’re saying fucking zombies are real?” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to keep from falling apart. Dean gave you a soft smile and reached out a hand before stopping, like comforting would mean getting attached. But the thought must have faded away when he put a hand on your head and cupped your cheek.

“Sorry kid. I told you. It’s a shitty world,” he said. Screw trying to be tough in front of him, you needed to cry and soon you weren’t sure if you were trembling from fear or your sobbing. 

Dean allowed you be that way for a moment, mourning for everything you lost, everything everyone lost. Until he decided it’d gone on too long and he was pulling you off his chest you hadn’t realized you’d burrowed yourself into in the first place.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, using his sleeve to wipe your face dry. You blinked a few times and wondered how he wasn’t a mess, hadn’t curled up in a hole somewhere. “Take a breath sweetheart.”

You inhaled deeply, following his movements as he nodded eagerly.

“Good. I wish I could let you take all the time you need, the time we all need to process this stuff properly but that’s not how it works now. You got me?” he asked. You nodded knowing he was already aware you were going to be a burden to him.

“I can go,” you said quietly. He raised his eyebrows and scoffed before throwing you a bitter glare.

“Where the fuck are you going to go? You won’t last two seconds out there kid. You don’t even know  _how_  to kill one of them,” he said. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, Dean,” you said, shrugging his hands off your shoulders even if his touch was the only thing giving you any peace right now.

“Well you might as well let me kill you right now then,” he said, your turn to glare hard.

“I’ll find a way,” you said. He smiled and you were beyond confused.

“Good, you still want to live,” he said, standing up and grabbing the medical kit again.

“Do people not want to live anymore?” you asked, Dean turning around with an all too knowing nod.

“If you’ve made it this far, then yeah, you probably aren’t going down without a fight,” he said, sitting down and inspecting your old stitches. “But me…my group was wiped out ten days ago Y/N. My parents are gone too.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, Dean picking up a pair of scissors and snipping off one of the thread’s ends. He didn’t speak as he use a pair of tweezers to pull the string out, trying to cause you little discomfort. You didn’t realize how much it’d been bothering you until he removed it.

“Ten days ago…I got real close to giving up. Real close,” he said, scooting back on the bed. “But I made a promise to myself. Ten days. If I didn’t find anyone in ten days, I could give up. Kid, I was about three minutes away from thinking there was nothing good left in this world when I saw you. I thought you were one of them, how pale and slow you moved. I thought there’s another one…one more person that didn’t make it. But you’re alive and now…I got something again, so I can’t quit. I need you. You need me just as bad. It’s as simple as that.”

“What did you…why didn’t you…who…” you said, not sure how to even remotely respond to an omission like that.

“Ya know, I’ve got a brother. A dorky, sweet, incredible little brother going to school in Stanford. He’s probably a year younger than you and honestly, he’s all I have left. If he’s alive that is. I know he’ll find a way though and you know why?” asked Dean. You shook your head. “He’s the kind of guy that would wake up from a coma in the middle of the freaking zombie apocalypse and when he gets attacked, he’d be smart and steal my knife from my jacket pocket when he didn’t think I was looking and then put it back when he decided he could trust me. I know someone who did that and she just told me with the most conviction I’ve ever heard in my life that she’d find a way. So I got to believe he’s still out there.”

Dean Winchester was something else. Five minutes ago you thought he was some deranged mad man the way he barely said a word and when he did it was all anger and demands. But boy had he let the walls down just now.

“Then let’s go get him,” you said, taking his hand and giving it a light squeeze. Dean looked at you curiously. You were in the middle of Kansas over a thousand miles from his brother, an impossible task even if you knew what you were doing. “You said it yourself, you need me. You need him too so I guess that means I do.”

“Y/N, no. It’s too far and you don’t even know how to kill one of these things let alone find food or water,” said Dean, moving to stand but your hand pulling him back down.

“Teach me. Then we’ll find your dorky, sweet, incredible little brother. It’s not like I have to go to work in the morning or anything,” you said. Truth be told, you needed a goal right now and this was the perfect opportunity to focus on something good.

Dean sighed and slipped out of your grasp, moving to pace around the room. He looked at you every once in a while before he stopped and ran his hands over his face. 

“You do exactly what I tell you, understand? Exactly. You don’t question any decision, you run and hide when I say, got it?” he said. You smiled, knowing you’d won.

“I got it Dean,” you said, standing up and taking a step, your headache better than you thought it’d be. 

“There’s a bedroom upstairs with some women’s clothes. We’ll go through it in the morning and pick out what’s best for you,” said Dean, walking out of the room to what looked like a very dark kitchen with a lone flame coming from the stove top. Dean took the two cans off the top of it and blew out the flame before retreating back into the bedroom, closing the door and taking off his boots for the night. “I hope you like beans.”

“I hate them actually,” you said, receiving a can full of beans and spoon from him. “This is dinner? Awesome.”

“Welcome to the end of the world, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

When you woke up you were no longer sharing a bed with Dean, another can of beans being shoved under your nose, gagging you into consciousness.

“Warn a girl next time,” you said, looking it over and finding it only half full. Dean gave a tiny smirk before sitting down in a chair, hands moving through his heavy backpack.

“Hey, don’t tempt me or I’l just eat the rest of that,” he said, reaching his hand down low inside. “Bingo.”

“Bingo?” you asked, mouth full as you tried to shovel the food down as fast as possible. It didn’t take long as there wasn’t much and your body was desperate for nutrients after surviving off of some empty feeding substitute you found yourself hooked up to. You really didn’t want to know how long ago had that thing gone out.

“Bingo,” he said, pulling out a bag of beef jerky, one piece left. “Here,” he said handing it over.

“What?” you asked, his hand on your wrist plopping it down.

“Kid you need protein and fat and all the crap you shouldn’t eat right now. I mean, I ate a piece two days ago. It’s not like I didn’t get any,” he said. You tried to give it back but only got about half an inch before he was giving a look to kill. “You’re suppose to do what I say, remember?”

“Dean, food is different,” you said. He cocked his head and you rolled your eyes. He wasn’t budging though and damn if it didn’t smell like the greatest thing on earth right about now…

“Good girl,” he said when you finally gave in, taking your time to enjoy it.

“Thanks,” you said, putting the last bite in his palm. He stared blankly at it and you giggled, a sound that felt so strange now. “I didn’t slobber over it.”

He shoved it in his mouth but made no further indication other than to wave you to stand and follow after. Your legs felt more steady and your head felt relatively fine despite your recent injuries to it. The rest of the house was dark, even though you knew it was day from the few cracks in boards.

“Come on,” he said, your bare feet following his up the steps and down a hall to a master bedroom. You saw some clothes laid out on the bed and a pair of tough hiking boots on the floor. “Let’s hope this stuff fits.”

“Uh, Dean?” you asked, picking up a shirt. He hummed. “A little privacy?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry,” he said, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of red before he scurried from the room. You smiled at his bashfulness before realizing you were about to get very intimate with this man who was a stranger to you yesterday. You’d already slept next to him after insisting you two could share. You’d already eaten using the same spoon. Having someone was no longer a desire in life but a necessity. 

“At least the boots are my size,” you said, inspecting them. After a few minutes you found a pair of jeans than fit good and then another. You threw on a tank top and a simple flannel over it. Everything Dean had picked out was thicker materials, tougher to tear apart, warmer for being on the road. You allowed yourself one extra shirt and tank before you raided the bathroom.

This family had a little bag under the sink with a travel size toothbrush and a hairbrush. You shoved a washcloth and some bobby pins and hair ties in it, not sure what was necessary now. 

“Y/N, I mean I know it’s not like we’re going to be  _late_  or anything but you aren’t dressing up for a first date,” he said on the other side of the door. You walked over to it and opened it up, seeing him smile.

“Hi,” he said, looking over the small pile of things you had in your hands. “That all you want?”

“I guess. Wait, no,” you said, walking back in and grabbing the small notepad and pen, just in case you two got separated. “Now I am.”

“Good. You’re thinking smart. I like smart,” he said, holding open a fresh black pack for you. “Now what’s most important?”

“Water?” you said, seeing his smile grow before he ruffled your head.

“Ah, you’re a little smartie pants like Sammy,” he said. You would have rolled your eyes at his teasing but you were starting to feel on edge. It was still all just a bad story. Only a story until you stepped out of this house and had to face it.

“How…how do you…ya know…if you see one of them?” you asked, Dean’s hard face coming back. He moved your hands to slide the items inside the bag before he dropped a gallon of water and countless cans of food inside and zipping up. He shoved a box of matches he waved in your front pocket and a tiny first aid kit he must have stolen from this house.

“Here,” he said, going to his own pack you hadn’t realized was upstairs already. Keep your bag with you at all times you figured. He plucked a navy jacket off the top of his and handed it over. “Roll up hood. Don’t put it out unless it’s raining or snowing or some shit. They can grab it and catch you.”

“O-okay,” you said, sliding your arms through it and finding it warm but nice. 

“Your other present…is this,” he said, turning over a knife to you. “In the brain does the trick. They aren’t fast but don’t let them corner you, gang up on you, bite, scratch-”

“Don’t let them near me,” you said, Dean nodding his approval.

“We don’t go picking fights with them. That’s for worst case scenarios, got it?” he asked. You nodded and turned it over in your hands. “Good.”

The next thing you knew Dean was shoving you back against the wall, the knife falling to the ground.

“You’ve got five seconds at an absolute max to make a decision. You’d be dead already if I wanted to eat you,” he said, releasing you and picking up your knife.

“Sorry, I missed Intro to Zombie day at school,” you said, Dean handing it over and taking a few steps back. 

“Cute,” he said with the tiniest of laughs. “Try again.” He came at you once more, faster this time. Your back hit the wall but you had your arm up and if you wanted to, you would have taken him down. “Alright. Let’s hope we don’t have to put that to the use for awhile.”

“It won’t be that easy,” you said, Dean sliding his arms through his jacket and pulling his pack on.

“No it won’t. I got your back out there. And this,” he said, pulling a gun from the back of his pants.

“Why don’t you just shoot them then?” you asked, picking up your bag. He shrugged.

“Guns are loud.  _Really fucking loud_. Quiet is good. We want to try to be quiet on the road unless no one or nothing is around. Obviously if you see one standing beside you, feel free to get my attention any way necessary but use your discretion, ya know?” he said.

“You got it boss,” you said, giving him a little salute as you lifted up your bag. It was heavier than expected as you put it on and you went a little off balance, knocking into the dresser. The dresser wobbled and some of the things on top fell off, including a baseball that rolled into lamp on the bedside table. The lamp spun and tipped over, straight onto an alarm clock.

“Fucking hell!” Dean growled, pushing you out of the way to turn off the deafening thing. He picked it up and couldn’t figure it out before he slammed it against the wall. It was dead silent for a moment, Dean staring you down like you were the next thing to be pummeled. 

“What-” you tried to ask before his hand was flying over your mouth, cutting you off. He pointed to his ear and you finally picked up on it. Faint but skin crawling gurgled moans. 

He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the stairs, kicking away a heavy table that’d been blocking the backdoor. He flung it open, hand already moving with his knife to see one of them stepping up the back porch.

“Shit,” you said quietly, eyes wide as you watched Dean pull his blade out of it’s head like it was nothing.

“We have to move!” he whispered, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you with him, running through a backyard as you turned your head and wished you hadn’t. There were a lot of them, converging on the house, only one or two paying attention to you and Dean thankfully.

You thought for having spent the past month in a coma, you ran pretty damn fast. Dean didn’t let up for a long time, not letting you stop to catch your breath until you were through the small woods and out in a nice open field with short grass.

“Sorry,” you said, looking up at him, knowing that he wasn’t planning that for you first day on the road together.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, breathing heavy, running his hands over your head and arms. “None of them touched you?”

“No Dean. I’m okay,” you said. “Look I’m sorry-”

“Not your fault fate wanted to be bitch this morning,” said Dean, standing and closing his eyes for a brief moment. You relaxed, knowing it must be safe if he was allowing himself to do so. “Hey, you didn’t vomit. That’s something to be proud of.”

“Those things are…” you trailed off. Disgusting wasn’t even close.

“Best not to think about it. You know what we can enjoy? Us, talking a lovely walk in this safe and long ass open field that’ll probably get us out of Kansas and into the desert,” said Dean, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“What are we going to do for food? For water? This stuff will only last so long,” you said. Dean sighed and started walking, taking you with him, albeit at a much slower pace.

“There’ll be farmhouses, wells. There’s a reservoir a few counties over. We aren’t doing this without a plan, kid,” he said.

“How do you figure this stuff out?” you asked, looking up to him and seeing a smile now that the danger had passed.

“I don’t know. Maybe same way you pulled out your knife back there without thinking twice?” he asked. You noticed for the first time that it felt heavy in your palm before you slipped it back into your jacket. “Survival instincts.”

“Once we get Sammy, then what? It’s not like we can go hide. Or maybe we can if we’re smart about it,” you said. 

“I like you, Y/N,” he said. You laughed and he joined you. “I mean it. You didn’t say that like it was joke, that we wouldn’t get there. You truly believe it.”

“Well with you by my side I feel pretty damn safe,” you said. Maybe you’d had the instinct to get out your weapon but actually doing it? You weren’t sure you could if Dean wasn’t there.

“Thanks kid. I needed that after everything lately,” he said, pulling you closer into his side. You walked together in silence for a while, allowing yourself to lull back into a calm, picking up on how Dean never went all the way, always ready just in case.

“So what do you do Dean?” you asked. His arm fell away and you regretted speaking. You’d felt a whole lot better when it was around you.

“Well I  _used_  to be a mechanic,” he said playfully. He bumped into your shoulder and you felt his hand brush yours before he tucked them into his front pockets. If you didn’t know better he was absolutely smitten and you had no clue why. “How about you? PhD student or something?”

“I worked at that diner off of route 12. The one with the-”

“Pie? That place made amazing ones, like that pie was better than some sex I’ve had,” he said, licking his lips. “ _It’s been 47 days without pie_ ,” he said, his whine sneaking a giggle out of you. “I find it hard to imagine that a little smart thing like you wanted to work there.”

“I’ve got loans to pay off and didn’t find a job out of school,” you said, kicking at the ground. Dean brushed up against you and you lifted your head.

“Pros of zombies overrunning everything,” he said holding up his hand to count. “Wake up when you want to, go to bed when you want, eat what you want, no bills or loans to pay. I think you might be onto something here, Y/N.”

“Yes, surely this is better,” you said, waving your hand around at nothing. 

“It’s more raw, more about surviving,” said Dean. You got why he probably liked that. Dean was someone who worked with his hands for a living. Doing hard work to get by wasn’t as big of a stretch for him. But he was also leaving out the most important part.

“I agree but…” you said. “I’m pretty fucking pissed off Dean.”

“What about?” he asked. He didn’t say it to be judgmental or anything but he simply slowed his pace keeping an eye on you as you walked.

“You want to survive. Guess what? Me too. But you don’t sound like you want to  _live_. You assume that’s over,” you said, the confusion clear in those green eyes. 

“I’m kind of lost,” he said, running a hand on the back of his neck. “You just said the same thing twice.”

“Surviving is do I have water and food. Living…living is so much more Dean. It’s family and friends and enjoying life and-”

“I can almost guarantee that no person you knew is left. This…this was nationwide,  _global_ , Y/N. That’s as much as we found out before it went to shit and the power went out for good. My group was our fucking city, Y/N.  _The city_. One last message we got out for everyone to come together. There were hundreds. I was the one who went off to go be up on the fucking roof by myself while everyone downstairs…” 

“Dean,” you said, trying to put an arm on him but watching as he jerked away.

“You are alone in this world Y/N. No one is left,” he said, increasing his pace. You matched it with some effort and barely got a hand on him before he shrugged you off. You stopped in your tracks and watched as he kept going.

“Fine,” you said quietly when he was out of earshot. You turned around and headed off in a different direction in a different field, north you figured, away from town. You were walking for five or so minutes when you heard Dean come up behind you.

“Where the fuck did you go! Where the fuck are you  _going_?  _Sam is west_ ,” he said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. He looked scared for some reason. It wasn’t like he cared. You were there for survival pure and simple.

“I’m being alone Dean,” you said. “According to you I have nothing and will never have anything ever again. Maybe you’re good at killing these things, at finding a way out but I-”

“Fuck kid,” he said, staring at the ground but keeping a firm grip on you. It was a good idea because the second he let go you were gone. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

“You don’t need me Dean. You never did. I’ll find a way and I hope you find Sam,” you said. His head flew up and he looked on the verge of yelling, slamming his fists on the ground and breaking down all at once. “Dean?”

“I don’t want to be close and I don’t want to be alone. What do I do?” he asked, sounding much younger than himself, clinging to every word you would say.

“Do you want to survive or do you want to live, Dean?” you asked him softly. He relaxed his grip on you and allowed you to run your hands up and down his arms. 

“Live,” he said so low you barely caught it. You grabbed his hand in yours and started walking the two of you west again, Dean watching you the whole time. “What are you doing?”

“Living with my new friend,” you said, giving him a smile. He nodded his head, as though it were suddenly okay to let you in. “Is that okay? Being friends?”

“Not really,” he said, your heart falling in no time at all. 

“W-why?” you asked, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

“I don’t think I’m going to want to stop at being just friends is all,” said Dean, you taking your turn to be confused today. He smiled and you were glad to see it on his face again. “I’ve made plenty of fast friends in the past month. None of them feel like you.”

“How do I feel then?” you asked, this complete and utter stranger admitting feelings there was no way he could already have. Or that you could properly reciprocate, right?

“Hope? Happy? I didn’t remember being happy until yesterday. I want to be that guy you think I am when you look up at me with those eyes and I see how you care about me, you worry about me. I want to prove that I’m worth that,” said Dean.

“Maybe that’s why I lived,” you said. “I mean I’ve been thinking this through and I  _really_  shouldn’t be alive. Forget the fact I was in a car accident that left me waking up in the ICU. But I woke up, over a month later. I was hungry but didn’t starve. I was thirsty but only a little dehydrated. My cut was clean, my head works…I walked through a building of how many of them, I walked down streets and roads and into a house. Nothing hurt me until you found me.”

“What are you saying?” asked Dean, looking down at your hand in his.

“Maybe I lived so you could too,” you said. It was corny as hell and even crazier but all you could think of was how there was no good reason you were alive.

“Whatever it was, I’m really glad I didn’t bash your skull in,” said Dean, stepping onto a dirt track that ran as far as the eye could see up to a clear blue sky.

“I do get to hold that over you forever by the way,” you said with a smirk. Dean squinted but you saw one form on his face as well.

“Not my fault you look like a zombie kid,” he said, getting an eyebrow raise in response. “You look better now. You got some color back,” he said, using his free hand to run his thumb over your cheekbone. You stared for a moment before he let it drop and you went back to walking. “You’ll be okay, promise. Let me know if I push us too much and you need a break.”

“Let’s just do what you said earlier. Enjoy a walk on this nice sunny day and get to know one another.”


	3. Chapter 3

Three Months Later

“Dean,” you said, shaking his arm. He stayed motionless behind the wheel of the old beat up Impala you’d grabbed a few days back. “Babe.”

“No,” he said, reaching his hands under the steering column and disconnecting the wires, shutting off the engine. He climbed into the backseat, trying not to look at you. “No, Y/N.”

“We are so fucking close to Stanford. We are so incredibly close-”

“No. It’s final, Y/N. Tomorrow we head up the road, find some secluded little cabin in the woods, build a big fucking wall and live the rest of our lives like this world doesn’t exist,” he said. You opened your mouth to argue but he held up his hand. “You said that first day you would do what I told you, without question. I’ve never made you feel like you don’t have a choice, even when I really fucking wanted to. This one time, let me decide, please kid. Please don’t make me beg.”

It’d been a long three months with Dean. A terrifying three months from Kansas to California, sticking to backroads and open spaces as much as possible. Dean had almost died 17, 18 times maybe. You double that. You weren’t counting the little stuff either. Dean said it would happen despite you believing it wouldn’t but slowly, you got better, more sure of yourself. You always stuck together as a general rule but a few minutes on your own and Dean didn’t worry as much as he once did.

Somewhere along the way your friendship changed to more like you both always knew it would. It wasn’t after a bad day or close call. You’d sat down next to Dean and yawned, resting your head on his shoulder for a quick nap. Next thing you knew he was kissing you and that was that. 

“Dean, we came here for Sam,” you said, leaning against the bench to gaze over him. “We’ve got to at least try.”

“It’s too dangerous,” said Dean. “ _It’s a city_. It was stupid to ever think he’d be around anymore.”

“Dean let’s-”

“I’m not losing you. End of discussion, Y/N,” said Dean, clenching his jaw. You huffed but slid down in your seat to sleep regardless. He was scared to death of something happening to you. It irritated you beyond comprehension at times when he got that way. He’d never been as bad as you’d just seen him though. Dean was all you had, all you wanted, all you needed…

“No, it’s not,” you said, sitting up, looking down at him as he already had shut eyes.

“I don’t want to fight. It’s bad enough there’s not enough room to sleep next to each other kid,” said Dean, breathing heavy.

“I need you and you need me…and you need Sam. I need Sam. If you can live without having what you need then fine but I need him, understand? We are going to Stanford and we are going to find him,” you said. Dean opened his eyes slowly, his expression unreadable.

“No, Y/N. No we aren’t,” he said softly, shaking his head just so. “We go north now and live. You and I, we’re gonna live. Sam was a hope and a prayer to get me by until I got you. But we can’t go. We can’t sweetheart. We won’t make it back.”

“You’re giving up on him? What the hell kind of man are you! Getting Sam back to you, to us, that’s what’s kept me going through all the shit we’ve seen!” you said, struggling not to raise your voice. You couldn’t no matter how much you wanted, it was too dangerous.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, taking your hand even if you didn’t want it. “I’m not saying never. I’m saying not right now. We will look, we will, but first, we need to find a safe place, make it safe. I need to have one night, just one fucking night where I’m not scared to go to sleep.”

“Why do I always let you win?” you asked, laying down but keeping your arm over the bench so he could hold onto it throughout the night.

“Goodnight Y/N. Love ya.”

 

“Y/N!” someone was shouting at you. You heard it again, louder this time. It continued over and over until you were positive it was Dean. But your head hurt. It hurt sometimes and you didn’t tell Dean about that. One too many accidents and he had enough to worry about. Maybe something had gone wrong finally. Maybe…

“Y/N!” you heard another angry voice shout. Definitely not Dean. You just wanted Dean back, not this other person. He’d make you feel better, he always did. For now though, it was easier to just sleep and hope you’d have the chance to see him again.

 

You woke up in a bed, your head heavy and everything felt off, like you were drugged up. Maybe you found some people with medicine? That’d be nice for once. But your head was fighting with you and some part of you was slipping away into who knew what.

“Y/N, come on, please,” you heard Dean say, your eyes fluttering open. You blinked a few times as the lightbulb went off in your head, that feeling leaving you once and for all. “Y/N? You okay?”

“Fuck, am I glad to see you,” you said, sitting up in your bed, looking around your room in the bunker, Dean sitting nervously on the edge of the mattress.

“What’d you see in your perfect little world? Puppies and unicorns?” teased Dean, moving to the bedside table to hand you a glass of water.

“You killed that djin right?” you asked, your mind clear again. Dean nodded before handing you the glass. “Good, it deserves it for putting me in the middle of the fucking zombie apocalypse.”

“That was your happy place?” asked Dean, raising an eyebrow. “We got some issues we gotta-”

“You protected me. Taught me, cared for me, loved me. You’re my happy place jerk,” you said, glad you’d never have to deal with another zombie again. You’d take your vamps and werewolves any day of the week.

“It was the dickish kind of djin. I’m surprised you found anything good in there at all,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Even in my nightmares you’re by my side,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, loving him a little more somehow after the past day, even if it hadn’t been real.

“Hey! How you doing Y/N?” asked Sam, walking by the hall and stepping in  when he saw you up.

“Sammy!” you said, feeling okay again now that he was here where he was supposed to. “You didn’t get eaten by zombies after all.”

“No…I don’t plan on it anytime soon,” said Sam, lifting you up in a hug. You could feel him mouthing at his brother and soon Dean was laughing.

“I think she missed us was all,” said Dean, standing and getting in on the group hug. “Want to tell us what happened? If you’re comfortable with it that is.”

“Where do I even begin?” you said when they sat you back down, Dean crawling in beside you as Sam took over a nearby chair and the end of your bed.

“How’d it end?” asked Dean.

“With us, promising to go look for Sam after we settled for minute after traveling to Stanford to get him,” you said, watching the smile curl up on Dean’s lips.

“Wait, wait. You better start at the beginning for this. I got a feeling it’s going to be good.”


End file.
